Blood
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: They say that family is a heart and it gets it's blood from it's members. To keep a heart beating, a family must come together. But what happens when the blood coagulates and the heart stops over time? Can it be reanimated?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Human Target_. At All. I do not own the designed backstory of any of the characters. I burrowed them from cedricsowner. I do, however, own any new characters that pop up in this story that have not popped up in hers. They are mine. Therefore, please ASK ME before trying to use. Thanks ^^

**Authoress Note: **Well hello, fellow HT fans! Long time no see, eh? Sorry about that. My Human Target bunnies kinda ran off and I was taken over by other bunnies for other fandoms. Hopefully this'll get my bunnies back so I can write more fun pieces for y'all to hate/enjoy/whatever lol.

**Extra Note: **So for awhile now I've been rereading all – and I mean **all –** of the lovely cedricsowner's HT season pieces. From reading _Kizuna means _I got an idea for a small (And I mean like two ta three chapters small) piece based on a big plot point in the fic. Now this wouldn't fit in ced's story arc at all so don't worry about me trying to take it over. I look at this as a side piece. Something for fun on my part. Anyway, enjoy or whatever!

* * *

><p><strong>Veins<strong>

"So... Can you help me?" the woman before her asked. Her dark blue eyes were grasping for hope of some kind as she fiddled with her purse. Layla rubbed at her face and gave a deep sigh. This was big. A really big case for her. The pay would be great and it could help her get more clients... But the case itself was Hell! What this woman was asking... Well it could be done, but it would be a struggle.

The woman – a fairly young woman in her mid twenties – looked down at her purse and fingers as they played with the zipper at the top. "I know it's asking a lot... But I don't know who else to go to. You helped the Romney's find their granddaughter and they said you'd be perfect... If you can't, then I dont know what else to do and I can't just give up... I have to know if... If they're still around..." he voice trailed off as she reached into her purse and pulled out a worn out photo.

Layla couldn't see what was on the photo but she could see the hope and longing in the woman's eyes and she felt her heart twinge with pain. She had to help her. She had to try. This was going to be an almost impossible case. Finding people, tracking them down, could be fairly hard. With the Romney's – a lovely older couple who had been searching for years for a granddaughter they never knew they had – it hadn't been as hard because the couple had fairly good clues as to where to look. All this woman had was that her missing person had been born in Los Angeles. Whether they was still in L.A. or not she didn't know. And that would pose a problem. Not to mention on whether the person was alive or not.

Layla pushed her shoulder-blade length hair out of her face and watched her client – yes her new client – open her purse to put the photo away. "May I see that?" she asked quickly. The woman stopped and carefully handed the photo off to her. Layla grabbed her glasses and pushed them on her face. She had lately moved to contacts but had just woke up a few hours ago and hadn't had the chance to put them in.

She looked down at the old photo that showed a fairly young couple. The style of the photo and the clothes the couple wore suggested that it was taken in the early sixties. The wiry man was just a few inches taller than the woman his arm was around as they both smiled for the camera. Scanning down she saw the man's hand resting on-top the head of a smiling young male about three as he sat on a bench and waved to the camera with bright happy eyes.

It was a very picturesque family of the time. Smiles and love could be seen just at a glance of the photo. "Is this him? The one you're looking for?" Layla asked, looking up at the woman. She nodded softly with a smile before answering. "Yes. He's... He's my brother. I've never met him... But I've always wanted to. He ran away from home when he was ten or so. The woman in the photo," she reached out and taped the woman's face, "is my mother and the man was her late husband. I don't know the details but they separated because my mother had issues that she couldn't resolve. It scared him away to, my brother, and mom never saw him again... I was born later. Mom was fairly young when she'd had him – eighteen I believe – and was forty four with me... She died five years ago. Before she did she told me I had a brother and ever since then I've been looking for him..."

Layla listened carefully, hoping to get any extra details she could that might help her, before handing the photo back to the woman and running her fingers through her hair. "What about your father? Did he know about him?" she asked. She hate to get personal, but it was what she needed to do to help with this case. "Actually, yes," she said, pushing her dark blonde locks from her face, "he did. They were friends, his dad and mine. He's actually his godfather, funny enough," she chuckled as Layla grabbed her laptop and turned it on.

As soon as her screen came on, she immediately started in, clicking away at her computer intently. "I'm going to be honest with you," Layla began, not looking up from her data as it flashed across the screen, "I don't know if I'll be able to find him. I don't have much to work on except what you know... Which isn't a lot." She looked up at the woman who looked disappointed but was nodding her understanding of what she was being told. "But," she stated clearly, flipping through the F.B.I and C.I.A. database, pushing through their firewalls and trackers, "I know some people who could help us if we need it."

It had been a long time since she had any contact with _them_, of course, but she was fairly certain she could get to them. She may not keep contact with them, but she had kept track. One of the first things she was quickly taught in her kind of work was to keep tabs on your possible allies and enemies. She'd done pretty good at that, at least. Not to say she was a lousy freelancer... She'd just had a lot to learn and understand.

Her lips thinned as she bit her tongue and continues her plunge into her data as she picked her way through the CIAs database. "You said your name was...?" Layla asked, realizing that she couldn't recall the woman's name. Bad. She really needed to work on memorizing names. The woman looked startled to be addressed once again before answering. "Oh. I apologize. I was sure I told you – it's Christine Porter."

Okay well that was a start at least. "What was your mothers surname before she married your father?" she asked, going through the databases, picking out any Porters she could see. "Harrison," Christine answered, allowing Layla to pick out any and all Harrison's – which luckily there weren't as many as Porters – before she slipped out of the database before she was caught – having quickly copied the files – and began going through them, cutting out anyone who was not in the Los Angeles area.

"Is your father Andy Porter?" she looked at Christine who nodded in surprise. "Yes... Wait? How did you-" Layla cut her off quickly. "Your father works for the government, right? Therefore the government agents have files on him like anyone else. However, because he works for them, his file is watched and added to."

She could tell that startled her so Layla moved on, picking through the Harrison files. There were three files on Harrison that immediately caught her eye. They were coded in a much harder to crack way. Biting her lower lip, Layla picked through the data as best she could before finally cracking it. Not an easy task. They'd put everything in reverse and implanted false clues. Clearing the excess and unneeded information out, she looked through the last three carefully before throwing out one of a D. Harrison who had been killed in WWII after having it was revealed he was a spy for the enemy.

She was left with an R. Harrison and J. Harrison. "You wouldn't know the fathers name would you?" Layla asked. Christine shook her head and pulled out the photo and showed the back. It was then Layla noticed the very delicate and feminine hand writing sprawled on the back. _'Summer of '64 – Harrison family beach trip – little Johnny's first visit' _was neatly scrawled. "All I know is my brothers name was Johnny Harrison," she explained as Layla looked at the J. Harrison. J for Johnny possibly?

Opting to open both the files just in case, she was given the names Robert J. Harrison and John R. Harrison. This was it! This was what she was looking for. It had to be... "I found files on a Robert and John Harrison... They must be your brother and his father," she said with a pleased smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Christine's eyes lit up with new hope as Layla went to work on the files... And was startled.

"That's odd," Layla murmured, clicking through the data. Robert Harrison's data reveled him to have passed away in sixty five – a year after the photo was taken – and was labeled to be in government property... Huh? Shaking her head Layla opened John's folder... And found only his name, birthdate, and his seal of U.S. Citizenship. There was no photo or fingerprint evidence or even blood type. It was as if someone had tried to erase information. Layla could even see the leftover, broken, trail of someone who had also hacked the file. Why, though?

Shaking her head and ignoring the curious look she was getting from Christine, she flipped back to Robert Harrison's folder and searched until she found a photo. "Oh!" Layla exclaimed aloud, startled as the picture was of a man who looked almost familiar. If it wasn't for certain different facial structures and a few differences in the expression, he'd be almost identical to...

Layla gaped like a fish before looking at Christine in utter surprise. There was nothing there. She didn't see any similarities between her or her brother – who she was almost positive she knew – and that was amazing. It seemed she had taken after more of the mother in the genetic department while her brother had his father...

Quickly scanning the files for any trackers once more, she stored them away and shut down her computer quickly. This was huge. This was.. This was more than she thought it would be! Quickly running to the back where her home was - she'd opted to live near her office – Layla quickly and hazardously threw things around the room before putting on a new outfit and grabbing all her things.

"Miss, what are you- Oh!" Layla ran out her room, almost running over Christine before grabbing the woman's arm and tugging her for the door. "You have a car, right?" Layla asked quickly. Christine nodded quickly, looking the perfect picture of confused as she clutched her purse and was yanked out of Layla's office as she quickly locked up. "I think I know where your brother is," she explained as Christine opened her mouth to possibly ask what was going on.

Her confused expression became instantly surprised and filled with disbelief. "Are you sure?" she whispered as they quickly went down two flights of stairs. Christine took the lead to her car – a red Chevy Malibu – and fumbled with the keys as she unlocked the door and Layla slid into the front passenger seat.

"I'm pretty sure," Layla answered as Christine started the car. She opened her laptop on her lap as she backed up. "But if I'm wrong then the people we're going to see can help us confirm it." Not needing anymore explanation, Christine put herself in parkj after backing up and made for the address Layla put into the woman's GPS.

**R & R Plz**

**Seriously, do! I want to hear opinions. It's probably to fast, right? Choppy? Thats how I feel about it, at least... Idk, what about you all?**

**Second chapter coming soon hopefully! Also sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors... Yeah.. I'll maybe fix those later lol.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Human Target_. At All. I do not own the designed backstory of any of the characters. I burrowed them from cedricsowner. I do, however, own any new characters that pop up in this story that have not popped up in hers. They are mine. Therefore, please ASK ME before trying to use. Thanks ^^

**Authoress Note: **Well hello, fellow HT fans! Long time no see, eh? Sorry about that. My Human Target bunnies kinda ran off and I was taken over by other bunnies for other fandoms. Hopefully this'll get my bunnies back so I can write more fun pieces for y'all to hate/enjoy/whatever lol.

**Extra Note: **So for awhile now I've been rereading all – and I mean **all –** of the lovely cedricsowner's HT season pieces. From reading _Kizuna means _I got an idea for a small (And I mean like two ta three chapters small) piece based on a big plot point in the fic. Now this wouldn't fit in ced's story arc at all so don't worry about me trying to take it over. I look at this as a side piece. Something for fun on my part. Anyway, enjoy or whatever!

* * *

><p><strong>Thumping<strong>

Layla stared up at the office and frowned. Was this the place? It looked.. Different. Nicer, maybe? She rechecked the address in the GPS before looking back at the building. This was the place alright. She'd made sure to memorize the address once she tracked it down. But... That had been two years ago. Hopefully they hadn't relocated.

Shutting her computer, Layla looked at Christine before exiting the car. Christine followed and looked at the building with high nerves – her purse clutched tightly in her grip – and pushed her hair out of her face. Layla shut her door and Christine followed her as she made for a door placed on the side in a dead end alley. She hadn't seen any other way in.

Walking up to the door, she blinked as she found a communication button on the side. Raising a brow, Layla walked to the door and yanked on it. She looked around until she found a camera. Huh. She knew these guys were paranoid but they were taking things to the extreme now. Shaking her head, Layla hit the comm button and waited for it to turn green. "Hello?" she asked into where she assumed the microphone was.

She waited a minute before someone finally replied. The voice she was expecting to hear was not what she got. "Yes, who is it?" a strong British – female – voice asked. Layla blinked and tilted her head before answering. "Uh.. Names Layla.. I'm a friend... Kinda need to talk to you all about something..." she tried, not real sure what to say. This wasn't what she was expecting to happen. "Doors open. Please come in," the voice said before Layla heard the door buzz. Looking at Christine she ushered her to the door before the two of them slipped into the building.

Spotting an elevator, Layla hit the up button. She didn't have to wait long before the door opened and they could slip in, the door shutting behind them as Layla hit the only other button available that would take her up. "This seems highly suspicious," Christine said softly, biting her lower lip as Layla smiled but offered no comfort. She could understand Christine's wariness of the predicament. Hell she was feeling it herself. But she knew she could count on these guys to help her and her client.

The two remained silent as the door finally opened up and revealed a wall to the right and stairs down into a nice little waiting room set-up. Stepping out, Layla looked around before smiling as a large mass of fur and slobber stopped a few feet from them, head tilted and panting. Christine gave a startled gasp and stepped back as Layla crouched slightly and clicked her tongue, whistling softly. The dog panted some more before bounding towards them. Christine gave a loud "meep" of fear in her ear and Layla smiled as the dog stopped right at her feet and sniffed her Layla's outstretched hand. With no hostile reaction, she pat the dog on the head.

"Remember me?" she asked the dog who panted happily at the attention he was receiving as she scratched behind his floppy ears. Last time she had seen this dog was when she had followed the boys back to get the rest of her equipment. Two years later and the big dog – Carmine? - still rememebred her.

A click-clacking of heels drew Layla from her attention to the Rottweiler as around the corner, from what Layla recalled was the kitchen, came a dark skinned and haired woman in a very nice outfit and heels. She was polished and had a very professional air about her. Layla released her hand from Carmine's ear and stood straight. "Can I help you?" the woman – the same woman from the comm – asked, her accent sounding thicker in person.

Christine opened her mouth to answer, but Layla quickly stepped to it. "My names Layla," she began, quickly shaking the woman's hand, "and I'm looking for someone... But it seems I have the wrong office-" she was cut off by the sound of someone coming down the stairs to her left. Looking up she couldn't help the relieved smile that spread across her face.

He still looked the same – blonde hair, blue eyes, nice body and all – as he was halfway down the stairs before stopping and raising a brow at her. "Layla, right?" he said and she sighed with relief. Good. He remembered her as well! "Yeah," she replied, "and body-guard guy, right?" She had never really learned any of their names. Which didn't really bother her. She had a feeling they didn't tell her for a reason.

He made his way down the stairs and stood before her – and above her – with a smile. "Well that's one of the more nicer things people have called me," he grinned and Layla had to fight the urge to blush at how charming he seemed, "but you can call me Chance. Only fair since I know your name," he clarified with a twinkle in his true blue eyes.

"Mr. Chance? You two know each other, I'm assuming?" the British woman asked, looking between her and Chance. Layla nodded as Chance filled her in. Beside her Christine pat Carmine carefully, standing close to Layla while she looked around. "I see," the woman said, smiling at Layla, "well it's nice to meet you. My name is Ilsa Pucci," she introduced and Layla felt her jaw almost drop. Ilsa Pucci! _The _Ilsa Pucci? What was she doing working with a body-guard for hire?

"Long story," Chance said, seeming to read her thoughts. Layla nodded absently and didn't asked. She had a feeling she wouldn't get an answer if she did. "Nice to meet you," Layla replied, "I'm Layla and... Well I hate to cut the formalities, but I need to talk to you," she looked at Chance then at Christine who was wringing her purse at this point. Poor woman was out of her element it seemed. Layla felt kind of guilty about putting her here, but she needed to be apart of this.

Chance took a look at Christine. "Client?" he asked and Layla nodded. "Yes. She's the reason I'm here... Could we sit down. She's a little nerved right now." Ilsa nodded and led them all into the living-room. Layla sat down next to Christine - who politely accepted an offer of some nice green tea – before she continued. "My client, Christine, and I are searching for someone," she began as she opened up her laptop. "She asked me to help her locate her brother. I wasn't sure I could, though. We didn't have much to work on save for a picture and a last name," Layla opened up the files and looked at Christine, motioning for her to get the picture out quickly, "so as you know that's not always much to work with."

Christine handed her the photo as Chance and Ilsa quietly listened, the full focus on the, Good. "I dived into the FBI and CIA's database and went through each of the documents and threw out each person who couldn't possibly be the one my client is looking for. We were able to narrow it down to two out of sixty," Layla looked at the photo in her hand before looking at Robert Harrison's picture, "and I think I know who and where her brother is... But I need your help." Layla felt tension building inside her and she wasn't sure why, "so I was hoping I could get your friend with the glasses to help... The one that kept stealing the food?"

Ilsa and Chance glanced at each other before Chance looked back at her. "You mean Guerrero?" he asked, and Layla felt her stomach fill with ice. What? Guerrero! No.. He.. What? She had actually gotten to work with Guerrero and she didn't even... Oh! Layla nodded dumbly before Ilsa got up and made for the kitchen.

"I'm sorry for us having to interrupt your day," Christine spoke up, bring Chance's gaze to her. Christine looked sheepish and apologetic as Chance smiled and waved it off. Layla clicked around on her computer, moving around the data before looking up at Ilsa's clicking feet came back, followed by a pair of even striding boots. Layla looked past Ilsa and locked eyes on the mousy hair and glasses wearing man who was about her height and was munching on a sandwich.

"New girl?" he said, raising a brow, and she had to stifle the urge to sigh. New girl? Again... She supposed he was always going to call her that. Even if she told him her name a million times, she had a feeling she'd always be new girl. She gave a tiny wave as a girl with long brunette hair and wearing work-out clothes stood behind him. The brunette said nothing as she walked around the man – Guerrero – to stand behind the couch and Chance.

Guerrero walked over to her and polished off his sanwich. He raised a brow at her and all the questions he could have asked aloud were in that expression. Layla suddenly, for some reason, felt that she shouldn't say what she'd come here to say. Something felt wrong. Like her instincts were trying to warn her of danger she couldn't grasp.

But looking at Christine, who was staring at Guerrero and the others in confusion, Layla knew she had to. Sighing she looked at the picture before looking back at him. "Guerrero... Meet your little sister, Christine Porter," she stated clearly. The room went silent and that tense feeling she'd had increased ten fold. But she did not waver under the stony gaze she was given from the bright blue-eyed male or the wide eyed and gasping Christine, who rose to her feet and stared at Layla like she'd grown two heads. "What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Dude..." His voice was chilling – a calm but angry growl – as she held the photo out to him. He looked at it before taking it. He flipped it over and his expression hardened. Something flashed in his eyes, but it came and went to quickly to process. "That's you in the photo," Layla stated as calmly as she could while her body was telling her to run or hide, "and the man is your father Robert and your mother Carol."

Layla looked at Christine as she dropped her purse. "I brought you here because when I saw the picture of your moms ex-husband it was easy for me to see that they looked alike... But I had to make sure... This is your brother..." The words felt hollow and dangerous as she sat down. The whole room was silent. Chance had risen to his feet as Ilsa and the brunette were looking between Guerrero and Christine.

Then, quicker than she could comprehend, a barrel of a gun was pointed at her head! Layla blinked slowly, staring at the gun and up the arm of it's holder to look up at him, her fingers hovering over her keyboard... What? Fear – and she was surprised it took this long – suddenly dropped down on her like a hammer. Her eyes widened and she took in a shuddering breath of air and shook, her computer almost dropping from her lap. What was going on? Why did he have a gun at her? Was she gonna die?

Christine was gasping in surprise next to her as Chance and the others suddenly sprung into action. "Mr. Guerrero...?" Ilsa whispered, suddenly right next to him, Chance on the other side. Layla, her senses on high, caught something metal slide into his grip. Another gun? Oh my God! Layla's eyes were wide as dinner plates as she shakily shut her laptop and clutched it. This was bad. She expected him to be surprised, annoyed, or even condescending of her search and find skills... But to pull a gun on her? She had seriously underestimated him.

**R & R Plz**

**Well thank-you everyone for your comments! Hey, niagaraweasel! Was it who you thought it was lol? Thanks for being my first review, mvignal! I'm glad to see you liked how I started it, ced! Thanks everyone. Next chapter should be the last... Maybe lol. Idk. We'll see.**

**I kinda wanna just hug Layla now... I'm putting her through a terrifying ordeal. Oh well, I suppose. She choose this job. SHe'll have to learn alot still ^^;**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Human Target_. At All. I do not own the designed backstory of any of the characters. I burrowed them from cedricsowner. I do, however, own any new characters that pop up in this story that have not popped up in hers. They are mine. Therefore, please ASK ME before trying to use. Thanks ^^

**Authoress Note: **Well hello, fellow HT fans! Long time no see, eh? Sorry about that. My Human Target bunnies kinda ran off and I was taken over by other bunnies for other fandoms. Hopefully this'll get my bunnies back so I can write more fun pieces for y'all to hate/enjoy/whatever lol.

**Extra Note: **So for awhile now I've been rereading all – and I mean **all –** of the lovely cedricsowner's HT season pieces. From reading _Kizuna means _I got an idea for a small (And I mean like two ta three chapters small) piece based on a big plot point in the fic. Now this wouldn't fit in ced's story arc at all so don't worry about me trying to take it over. I look at this as a side piece. Something for fun on my part. Anyway, enjoy or whatever!

* * *

><p><strong>Pulse<strong>

Sweat built at the base of her neck. She could feel her palms clamming up as the gun's barrel continued to stare down at her. Her eyes, however, were trained on Guerrero's face. At first glance he would seem calm and collected as he held the gun. But Layla, with her senses on overload and everything enhanced, could see the confusion and anger flickering in his ice-blue eyes.

"Come on, man," Chance said, his gun out, "don't." Chance was calm, which slightly calmed Layla down. Maybe she'd be okay? Chance wouldn't let Guerrero kill her... Would he? No! No he wouldn't... He was all about protecting life, right? He was going to kill that assasin for killing that agent chick... Right?

Layla's mind was a whirl of fear and confusion as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish. Chance hovered near by. He wasn't touching Guerrero, but he was close enough to grab the smaller male if he needed to. What surprised Layla was how close Ilsa was to him. She was closer than Chance – her hand hovering, lightly gliding, over his other arm – and she was looking at him with as much of a poker face as she could... But of course her eyes were like a window. Layla could see her pleading silently that he wouldn't do what Layla was pretty sure he wanted to do to her. Oh God this was so nerve racking!

Everyone's attention was so focused on Guerrero, so tense about what he would do, that Layla and Ilsa jumped when the heard Christine shift. Out of the corner of her eye Layla watched the blonde raise slowly to her feet. She was suddenly infront of Layla and the gun was now jamming into her stomach. Layla scrambled to her feet then, pushing her laptop onto the couch and standing behind Christine. What was she doing?

Christine didn't seem to notice – or she did and just didn't care – the gun, loaded and locked, pressing into her as she stared at Guerrero. Inching around the shorter woman, Layla was able to get a look at the two as their eyes locked onto each other. Dear God... He had to be her brother! What Layla was seeing was... Shocking. Christine's gaze, while not hostile, was as focused as Guerrero's. She licked her lower lip just as he'd done and her stance, while not as strong or confident, was steady and grounded; ready for anything.

"If you're going to shoot someone," Christine whispered softly, her voice wavering slightly with fear as she took in a deep breath, "then shoot me... I'm the one that asked her to do all this..." she trailed off, her gaze shifting down to look at the gun against her stomach. She didn't pull away, though. She left it to press against her stomach, waiting. Slowly she reached up and touched the cool metal but again did not try to move it. Shaking she lowered her hand before looking back up at him.

Layla heard a soft growl – almost dog like – come from him. "Who are you?" he asked, and Layla furrowed her brow in confusion. Wait.. Wait? Christine took in a shuddering breath. "Christine Porter... Daughter of Carol and Andy Porter," she replied just above a whisper. The whole time her glared at her, Layla noticed that even with a gun at her guy, Christine seemed.. Happy?

He let out a deep breath, his nostrils flairing slightly. "Please... Don't be mad," Christine said softly, "I just... I wanted... I just wanted... to..." her voice seemed to fail her as she sighed and rubbed at her arm. The room was silent as everyone watched Guerrero, waiting to see what he was going to do. Would he kill Christine then her? Layla waited with shaking nerves and prayed. To who she prayed to, she didn't know. She just did.

Then, slowly, he lowered the gun. He unloaded it and put the safety on before stuffing it away. Christine stared at where the gun had been before looking at him. His expression was cold; angry. The two stared at each other before Christine turned and picked up her purse. She looked at the photo clutched in his hand and reached out for it. He let her take it without any restraint.

"After my brother left," Christine said, stuffing the picture away and pulling her purse over her and resting it on her shoulder, "she almost drank herself to death. My father told me she was very angry. Angry at her son who left, at herself, at everything. She almost... She almost let herself go... Until she found religion... Well it found her. And so did dad. They reconnected at a Christine church. She didn't even remember how she ended up there. She was so drunk... But dad got her back home and well... The rest just fell into place."

Christine looked at her bag before looking up at him. "She remarried... Then I came along. I think... I was her second chance. She never stopped loving and being angry at her ex... But she tried to set it aside for me... She's gone now. I think.. She told me about my brother so I could let him know that she never.. She never let go of him. She wished she could take it all back, but... She couldn't..." Christine ran her fingers through her hair and chuckled. "If I ever do find him – my brother, that is... I hope he'll know that all I want is to know him," she wiped at her eyes which were filling with tears. "I'm sorry. Must be unsettling having some stranger cry in your office," she chuckled sadly before looking at Layla.

She wanted to go over and hug her. She looked so sad and lost at this point. "I'm sorry about this. I'll still pay you for your trouble. I'll keep looking, though," she said sadly before looking at Guerrero, asking if she could leave. He said nothing, though. His expression was empty, emotionless, as she nodded before heading for the stairwell. Layla ran over and grabbed her stuff, ducking her head and heading after the shorter woman.

What had just happened? Layla looked back at the team and bit her lower lip before running down the stairs after Christine. "Miss Porter he's-" she began, but she was cut off as Christine shook her head. "I know," she said as firmly as she could while her body shook, "I know. But... He's not ready to know. I'm not ready to fit into whatever life he has... I understand that," she gave Layla a warm smile, "because he's like mom. He's private."

Layla gave a small smile but shook her head. This woman... Was strange. She'd been so determined to find and be with her brother.. .Yet she was letting him go? Layla didn't understand it at all. But then again maybe she wasn't suppose to. Maybe this was how it was suppose to be.. Maybe? Huh... Either way, at this point, she was just happy to not have a bullet in her gut!

Maybe she should look into another profession... This was just too nerve wracking.

**R & R**

**OK so this isn't the last chapter lol. I let my friend read this and she feels Christine is a bad character. "She's nothing like Guerrero! And how the hell could she just up and leave and be so calm?".. Uh, hello! I wasn't trying to make her like Guerrero. They were both raised differently, of course they'd be different! But even so, I hope I portrayed the similarities they share. I share a lot of things with my brother, even if personality wise we are totally different.**

**Also thanks everyone who's been commenting and viewing! I really wasn't sure anyone would like this piece lol. AND sorry this chapter is shorter than the others. It is purposeful, because I want the last bit to be like a wind-down for everything. It may be awhile for the next chapter, though, cause of my school life. But it will come ASAP I promise :]**


	4. Chapter 4 : An End

**I think I'm going to end the story where I did in the last chapter. I keep writing the nexty piece over and over and each time it seems to campy and wrong. It just doesn't fit with the flow of how this story was originally thought out in my head and I dont want to ruin it.**

**I hope what you all have read was interesting at least. I enjoyed it. I may write something in the future with Christine and Guerrero again, but I feel this is the best place to leave it because it just feels right to me. Sorry for those that wanted more, though. Maybe someday. Maybe.**


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